In short, I went to three universities (undecided, anyone?), but the one I attended the longest and most identified with is a private Christian college in the middle of rural Indiana. It was a great school with a great reputation and I have great memories of my time there. It’s where I met my wife, discovered writing, and made great friends for life. But unlike some of my classmates, my devotion to it is far from “cult-like” or “those were the best years of my life.” It was a beautiful experience and a good education and that’s about it. Before I graduated, I went to another school because I had a girl to take care of (my wife of 27 years and counting).
I can keep an eye on this university pretty easily because my parents live in a nearby town. The town the school is in (population 3,800) is currently a construction site, which is no exaggeration. As if the whole thing is being demolished, because thanks to some big pharmaceutical grants the university found there, the town is being beautified and redesigned to look less like a small, blue-collar Indiana town and more like the wealthy suburbs of Chicago and West Michigan where many of its students come from. It’s buying up houses all over town and tearing up the main street that runs through what used to be the city center.
The houses and shops that used to stand in those places will be replaced by brand new buildings that look boring, cute and straight out of a brochure. The result will be, I’m sure, very pleasant, but fundamentally different to the town that used to be there. The question is: “Is this a good idea?”
If you are from the city or like the idea of a city, City, the answer is probably “no.” But that’s a shame, because $25 million speaks volumes, and if you don’t have it lying around, your opinion doesn’t really count, and you can drown your sorrows in hipster coffee and tongue-and-groove boards because your town will soon look like Chip and Joanna Gaines’ living room. Making matters worse, the school’s relationship with the town has always been strained at best, since the college is the domain of the (by and large) rich and educated and (sometimes) arrogant, and the town is what many small towns in Indiana are. There’s really only one ice cream shop that’s the de facto dividing line between “town” and “school,” and it’s been pretty much the only thing holding the two entities together for decades.
Rumor has it that there will be apartments and condos for parents and alumni to come back and relive the old college magic. I work at a similar small Christian university in the South, and because I like to be early in everything (especially jokes), I’ve been joking for a decade that a Christian university will basically build dorms on campus for parents to follow their kids to college and keep an eye on their professors and maybe cut their food in the cafeteria.
It looks like that might happen at my old school, which of course would be devastating to what we still understand as “the college experience” (if it meant something like “developing independence” and “cutting the apron strings”), but there is a “if the market can bear it, then we should do it” mentality that is currently prevalent in Christian higher education. And with more and more parents working from home, why not follow little Calvin or Athanasius to school and keep an eye on him while you yourself take advantage of the myriad food options and pickleball courts? That’s higher education meets country club. And if Adoniram is feeling a little stressed from 14 credit hours and a few extracurricular activities, I’m sure Mom can just come to class and take notes for him!
I’m exaggerating, but only a little. I’m sure this is much ado about nothing. In a decade, everyone will probably love the new version of the city, and college as we know it may not even exist. But at least we’ll have some nice shopping.
